The Eternal Chorus of Womanhood

I am you, you are me, we are Harris in this hour

Last night, on the debate stage, Kamala Harris stood tall, a beacon of hope, awakening us all.
    Her presence electric, her words a cosmic spark, igniting the stars that had slumbered in the dark.
    Through our fingertips now, constellations we trace, new patterns of power across time and space.
     She's the touchstone we've sought through millennia of strife, the catalyst for change,
breathing new purpose to life.
     In her stand, we see echoes of battles hard-fought, by women who dreamed of the future we've sought.
     Harris shakes the very core of our shared destiny, honoring those who've died for our right to be free.

We are Kamala, she is us, our stories interwoven
    In the vast celestial constellation of womanhood, each star vital, each light now spoken.
From Hatshepsut's pharaonic reign to Harriet Tubman's underground railroad,
    We've carved paths through history, our strength and wisdom bestowed.

We are the Suffragettes, marching for our rights, chains breaking free,
    Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton, fighting for you and me.
We're Rosalind Franklin, unraveling DNA's double helix with X-ray precision,
    And Gloria Steinem, igniting a feminist revolution with unwavering vision.

We are Sojourner Truth, asking "Ain't I a Woman?" with righteous fire,
    And Mary Church Terrell, for racial and gender equality, we aspire.
Ida B. Wells-Barnett, anti-lynching crusader, for Black votes she fought,
    Mabel Ping-Hua Lee, for Chinese-American suffrage, tirelessly wrought.

Zitkála-Šá, Native American rights and women's suffrage intertwined,
    Jovita Idár, for Mexican-American women's votes, she pioneered and shined.
These women of color, their struggles too long untold,
    In Harris's heritage, their legacies unfold.

We are Mary Wollstonecraft, penning rights of women with fervent quill,
    And Simone de Beauvoir, challenging gender roles, her words still thrill.
Virginia Woolf claims a room of one's own, a space to create and be,
    While Audre Lorde's poetry and prose set marginalized voices free.

Betty Friedan named the problem with no name, sparking a revolution,
    And bell hooks intersects race and gender, offering new solutions.
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie declares we should all be feminists,
    Their words, like constellations, guide us through the mists.

We are Boudicca, leading armies against Roman might,
    And Hedy Lamarr, inventing frequency-hopping in the war's dark night.
We've been Ida B. Wells, exposing lynching's brutal truth,
    And Hillary Clinton, shattering glass ceilings from her youth.

We are Fatima al-Fihri, founding the world's first university,
    And Ada Lovelace, birthing computer programming with visionary clarity.
We're Junko Tabei, first to summit Everest's peak,
    And Edith Cowan, in Australia's parliament, the first to speak.

Our bodies have borne the weight of expectation, the scars of oppression's blight,
    Yet like Lise Meitner, split atoms in exile, we've risen, ready to ignite.
We are Gertrude Bell, mapping the Middle East with unmatched skill,
    And Sonia Sotomayor, on the highest court, justice her iron will.

In Harris, we see echoes of Queen Liliuokalani's sovereign grace,
    Of Elena Kagan's jurisprudence, shaping law's embrace.
We are Wangari Maathai, planting seeds of change in Africa's soil,
    And Marie Curie, twice Nobel laureate, despite academia's turmoil.

From the Trưng sisters' rebellion to the boardrooms of today,
    We've whispered and we've shouted, finding strength in every way.
We are Nellie Bly, exposing injustice in asylum's grim halls,
    And Ruth Bader Ginsburg, her dissents echoing through marble walls.

We are Begum Rokeya, breaking through purdah's confining walls,
    And Septima Clark, citizenship schools defying Jim Crow's calls.
Like Hypatia of Alexandria, for our knowledge we've been cut down,
    But in Harris's stand, our vindication wears debate night's crown.

We are Savitribai Phule, educating India's girls against all odds,
    And Ketanji Brown Jackson, breaking barriers with approving nods.
We're Phoolan Devi, from bandit queen to parliament's elite,
    And Amy Coney Barrett, her legal acumen hard to beat.

In that debate hall, we stood tall in Harris's shoes,
    Facing down the echoes of those who would silence and accuse.
We are Huda Sha'arawi, unveiling a revolution in Cairo's streets,
    And Policarpa Salavarrieta, defying Spanish rule with indomitable feats.

From Theodora's Byzantine reign to Kamala's historic run,
    We've weathered storms, shattered ceilings, our journey far from done.
In her poise, her intellect, her unwavering gaze,
    We see millennia of struggle ascending from the haze.

We are Noor Inayat Khan, radio operator in Nazi-occupied France,
    Petra Kelly, green politics pioneer, giving peace a chance.
We are Rigoberta Menchú, indigenous rights expressed,
    And Sandra Day O'Connor, first woman on the Court, gender barriers pressed.

We're Valentina Tereshkova, first woman in space, Earth's gravity defied,
    And Frida Kahlo, painting our pain with unyielding pride.
We are Jane Goodall, unveiling the secrets of our primate kin,
    And Malala Yousafzai, championing education, refusing to give in.

We are E. Jean Carroll, standing tall in the face of power,
    Her truth prevailing in justice's finest hour.
And Stormy Daniels, brave whistleblower of our time,
    Exposing corruption, making silence a crime.

So let us celebrate Harris, standing firm on that stage,
    A testament to every woman who's turned history's page.
For in her voice, we hear the echoes of ages past,
    Of every woman who dreamed this moment would come at last.

I am you, you are me, we are Harris in this hour,
    United in our journey, our legacy, our power.
From the first woman to draw breath to the last yet to come,
    We stand vindicated, our eternal chorus sung.

May these words ignite a chorus of triumphant cheers,
    Etching deep in hearts the strength that perseveres.
Remember every woman who's lifted you so high,
    Their courage, like constellations, illuminating the sky.

Now it's our turn, this sacred moment is here at last,
    To honor their struggles, their dreams from ages past.
This universe of women, stretching through space and time,
    Calls us to action, makes this moment sublime.

It's our time to rise, to take this historic stand,
    To shape the future with our voice, our vote, our hand.

Now, to you who reads these words, this cosmic song of 'she',
    Whether woman born or man who sees equality,
Reach out your hand to a stranger, with hope and humility,
    And speak this truth that burns within, this chance to make history:

"I'll cast my vote for Kamala, for all we can become.
    Will you join me in this journey? Let's see this change be done."
For in this simple act of faith, this bridge from 'me' to 'we',
    We forge the future's brighter path, for all humanity.

We are female—mothers, daughters, sisters, aunts, grandmothers, 
    cousins, spouses, mistresses, creators, destroyers, champions, 
arbitrators, monarchs, captives. 
   We are the story and the storyteller, the canvas and the artist, 
the melody and the singer.

I am you, you are me, entwined and indivisible, 
    each one of us a star in the rich and ever-expanding constellation of femininity. 
Together, we dance the cosmic dance of life, 
    our chorus rising in harmony, our song echoing into eternity.

We write our destiny.